


Once upon a Time (For Panoramiccc)

by Anonymous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bathing, Bloodrinking, Blow Jobs, Demon!Alfred, Demon!Matt, Double Dicks, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Marking, Other, Panoramiccc's AC Au, Panoramiccc's Hero AU, Possessiveness, Sensuality, Stolen Kiss, Violence, naga!Uk, tumblr migration, vampire!2pCan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Short stories, gifts and drabbles for the amazing Panoramicc and her terrific AUs(Year of publication 2012)





	1. Marriage vows (Demon!AmeCan)

**Author's Note:**

> A present for Panoramiccc. 
> 
> Well this is a Valentines day present for miss pan. I hope she likes it. (and how do I tumblr anyway?)
> 
> Anyway. Happy Valentine’s day miss Pan (It seems tumblr ate this, so I’m sending it again). Instead of a fluffy and cute Amecan filled with love and flowers and chocolate I bring you an Amecan demon Au with non-con violence… and still full of obsessive love. OTL enjoy your lovely present :D (at least it is long?)
> 
> Some warnings: non-con, use of drugs sponsored by Asmodeus (the sin of lust), violence, and inappropriate use of tails. 
> 
> Also, Zea = New Zealand. and I’m using the Demon!Alfred fanart in which he has blue hair instead of blond.

It was a normal occurrence in this valley of hell that every once in a while a demon would shout “MATIEEEEE!!” in the afternoon. All the residents knew right then they ought to clean their houses before the prince stormed out of his castle and started searching everywhere for the thief of his brother.

It was not as if Matthew was a terrible demon, he was not, he just liked to cause mischief finding the daily troubles he stirred in hell more gratifying than the seldom he started on earth. Just looking at his brother, pale face red with anger, storm out of the castle and ruffle his way into town made him laugh.

Just like now. He had found this delicate ring of silver and ruby and he couldn’t stop himself from taking it. It almost was as if part of him recognized it and wanted it badly. It was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship, and if his senses weren’t deceiving him, it contained magic as well. Old one at that. Smirking he slipped it on his pocket, turned himself invisible and waited his brother’s arrival and subsequent explosion. The ring was very special, he couldn’t wait for the show. 

Matthew ought to have known this afternoon was bound to be different.  

Alfred had entered his room as usual, just before twilight. But instead of searching for a random item, he frowned, going straight to the chest where the ring had been, opening and promptly went rigid. 

‘oh this one is going to be the best yet’ the blond demon thought excited, biting his lip as to not clue in the blue haired demon now shaking in front of the empty box. 

He closed the chest slowly, and clenched his fists and instead of his usual actions, screaming his name before storming out of his room; he growled darkly “You went too far this time Mattie”

Matthew should have known this afternoon was bound to be different, but he never realized it until Alfred closed the door, the clicking of the lock falling like a death sentence on him.  Alfred had turned around, looking directly at him, as if his powers didn’t work and when the older demon smirked he knew: he was trapped with no way out. 'Punishment!’ his mind screamed before Alfred teleported next to him, slamming him hard against the column. The movement so sudden and violent he bit his lip blood flowing freely from his mouth and staining his shirt.

“Gotcha” he spat gleefully, laughing at the other’s disoriented and disbelieving look. Pressing the younger demon’s wrist against the wall he smiled, feeling his heartbeat go crazy once the situation dawned on him. How he had missed it, the heady sensation of scaring his little brother.

Normally, he would let the other go after a good laugh, sometimes dumping him on water, so he could see the body underneath those clothes- other times he would pin the other down, use his tail to bother him until his cheeks flared in arousal and shame. But this time he had gone too far, taking that ring away, after all the work had had gone through to get it back… 

'This time you won’t escape’ he though darkly, the muscles under his hands tensed even more “Mattie Mattie Mattie Mattie, did you actually believe I wouldn’t see you?” tugging his wavy hair heartily he licked his brother’s blood, humming in pleasure. Thick and delicious just like how he remembered it. He had missed this as well. He needed more.

“So delicious. Did you think I wouldn’t remember the scent you have?” he whispered hotly against his ear, feeling the other shiver. And just before his little brother tried shake his hands free, he bit down hard, feeling the cartilage break under his canines more blood oozing out, coating his mouth. Matthew moaned in pain, fear paralyzing him, shivering only as Alfred’s hot wet tongue lapped at it, saliva mixing with his blood. “You’ve never been able to escape from me, little brother" 

Matthew’s heart stopped, he had a bad feeling about this. Alfred had never acted like this, not even when they fought, just what could his punishment be about now? 

Even with their playful, and in the case of Alfred downright cruel yet carefree nature, they were second princes of hell, that meant they had a large amount of power and prestige. Or in other words, their punishments were ruthless, most of the time resulting in death. But Matthew knew he wouldn’t die. 

Even if he didn’t go to earth as often as most of demons did, and against all prognostics, he was the favorite prince of Leviathan, to kill him would set the Lucifer’s left hand in uproar.

The knowledge didn’t reassure him. 

Alfred, as the second prince of Berith, was resourceful when it came to breaking laws. Matthew knew he was stronger than Arthur -the second prince of Beelzebub-, and was probably far more stronger than he, a demon whose specialty was spiritual and not physical. He had no doubts his brother would break him, whichever the punishment was. 

He squirmed in an effort to get free. Whatever the 'punishment’ would be he didn’t want to find out. There was something about the dark tone and the way his brother’s eyes were bleeding red that sparkled some forgotten instinct "You never found me before” he spat pushing hard when his hands were free, but the body didn’t budge. Instead Alfred chuckled, sucking more blood from his ear, the hand leaving his hair and closing dangerously on his neck.

“I always found you when it mattered” was the answer, mouth nipping at his jawbone, one hand tightening around his neck, the other searching roughly on his pockets for the stolen item. Matthew gasped, trying to breathe shallowly, trying to calm down his runaway heart. He had to calm down if he wanted to break free, wait until the exact moment when Alfred let his guard down and escape. 

He bit a moan when he felt an intrusive hand on his trousers, palming his crotch before going into his pockets, first the back ones, then the front ones. Alfred smirked in victory when he found the ring  and took it out, ripping the pocket it was in. 

“Hiding it in your pocket. No so imaginative are you?” he asked with mock happiness, licking the ring before pressing it against the blonds’ lips “I’d wished you would hide them somewhere deeper” he growled licking his lips lewdly and then pressing the ring harder before ripping his shirt, admiring the pale chest exposed to him.

Matthew didn’t like to go out a lot, and mostly his exercise was indoors, so his skin wasn’t tanned, unlike his brother who enjoyed ruckus in every plane he could teleport to. But he didn’t care, he loved his brother’s paleness. His bite marks would nicely contrast his form, accentuate his beauty, enthralled he roamed his hand on the exposed skin, noting with satisfaction the dark bruises forming around his neck. 

Matthew stood still, the situation finally dawning on him. 

Rape was nothing new in hell. If you weren’t strong enough you could get a nasty surprise if you wandered in the wrong places. But he had never gone through that, and now not only was he about to, it was his brother the one carrying it out. 

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t suspected this scenario could happen: they both had been close as kids, and Alfred had been too touchy feely when they were growing up. He had thought of it as a phase, after a while Alfred had become interested on earth and left him alone, furtive touches only under the context of a joke -and even then they weren’t as frequent .  He could not understand the situation, yes he was found and Alfred was in his right to punish him, but this was getting out of hand, Alfred didn’t seem to stop. 

“Alfred, enough stop- ah!” a nasty bite was the result of his efforts, he could feel his tongue laving the new wound. 

“I’m not going to Matthew, but you seem to be forgetting something important.” he leaned back, red eyes assessing him before passing the ring in front of his eyes “do you know what this is? It’s a bonding ring.” If Matthew hadn’t been scared of Alfred before, he was now. Rape? He could stand rape, at least he wouldn’t be a prisoner once it was over. Bonding rings were created for partners -mates- as a mark of ownership: it mixed their souls together, it would mark their every core with the other’s name so that their souls would answer their call. Most of the time, it was used as how it was intended, however, some lords found the effects useful, and used them to enslave other demons, fucking with their mind until they became mindless puppets obsessed with pleasing and obeying them. 

Perhaps Alfred wasn’t incapable of love, but even so, Matthew didn’t want him, didn’t want to lose his freedom. 

“Do you know what it does? What I’ll do to you? You will be mine.” Red eyes shining at the words. Matthew couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“Alfred no, we are brothers” he tried to reason. Tried to make the other see this was all getting out of hand. No wonder Alfred took the theft so seriously - those rings were hard to find- but he was just out of order. He was letting anger take control of him, pushing him to do something they both would regret it later. Or so he hoped. 

Alfred blinked in disbelief, his brother couldn’t be reasoning with that.“We are demons, fruits of sin.“ he explained slowly, still holding back the urges to laugh at such naive misconception "I don’t care. I want you” 

Next, to make his words true, he leaned and bit hard on his neck, drinking more of that delicious blood. 

Matthew gasped, somehow, the pain of being bitten in such an act of ownership awakening some long buried memories.

He was little, perhaps no taller than a chair, and he was running, eyes wet, blood flowing freely down his neck, hands clenching around a cursed object. He should have stayed at home, Alfred had been acting weirdly the whole day, but he had never imagined- he stopped abruptly, just in time to side step his brother and get closer to the river of lava.

 _ _"I don’t want to be yours!”__  he had screamed petulantly, throwing the jewel into the molten lava, hand on his bloodied neck, eyes stinging. How could Alfred betray him so? he could still feel the hot mouth on his neck, breathing lustful proposals before biting down.  _ _“never”__. Alfred snarling  wildly at the action, flung himself against the younger demon, almost pushing him into the river of lava. His blue eyes bled red. Matthew had never been so scared in his long life. Why hadn’t he remembered it before?!

The cold contact of the jewel woke him from his past nightmare into the present one. “Do you remember this now Mattie?” Alfred asked sweetly, red eyes filled with warmth and possession. The blond haired demon swallowed, that voice scared him, just like the dangerous and sinuous path of that cursed jewel “I was so angry back then you know? I wanted to kill you, push that gorgeous face into the lava, watch you writhe and burn the way my heart was feeling” he intoned darkly, his hand reaching for his face, the bonding ring caressing it gently “But I saw your tears - just like now- and I… you were hurting back then as well, weren’t you? Hardening your heart just so you could test me, It must have hurt baby” Alfred cooed, taking the widening of those mauve eyes as Matthew being surprised at being found out, and not for the hysteric fear it was. 

“Alfred please! Let me go!” he breathed, hands trying to push the older demon away, stilling when a hand ventured lower, palming his crotch lightly. This wasn’t happening. 

“I don’t think I will. I have you now, you should surrender already” he taunted before taking his mouth on a brutal kiss. “I found our ring again, you must now follow through." 

Matthew sighed into the kiss, answering with the experience he had, pressing himself against that hand, moaning in pleasure, and let the other enjoy himself on his body. Let his mouth kiss him, suck on him, litter kiss marks on his hips, waiting and moaning dutifully at the pleasure he was receiving, encouraging the other to lose control.  

And lose control he did, he had lowered his guard, whispering something about how gorgeous he would look with the ring on him while kissing his foot. He had the perfect opportunity and kicked him on the face. 

Taking the opportunity to release his true from, Matthew smiled, horns curling on his ears, scaled pale grey wings flexing, tail lashing before he flew against the window. some minor wounds far more preferable than the fate at his crazed brother’s hands. He closed his eyes, prepared for the breaking glass as he pierced through the window when something took hold of him, wrapping around his middle.

Alfred scoffed behind him "you are having it on me Mattie, doing such a pitiful attempt to escape.” and with that he threw him hard against his bed, Matthew landing badly on his back, turning around just in time for Alfred to sit on him. 

Large leathery blue wings weighing him down, taking hold of his smaller wings “Maybe I should just make sure you don’t try to escape anymore?” he was asked innocently and screamed when his wing was dislocated, the demon above him cooing endearments “Shhh don’t worry Mattie, I’ll take care of it once we finish” he then gnawed at the skin between the pale grey wings, pleased to find out it still was as tender as he remembered. 

Matthew shuddered, not able to pinpoint whether it was from pain or pleasure. He could feel his tail fighting Alfred’s, being dominated by it. He could feel Alfred’s hands on his ass, kneading his cheeks, gripping them tight, pushing and spreading sometimes licking or gnawing. He could feel all of him against him: there was no escape.  

Knowing the little rebellion was over, he continue to worship his future mate’s ass. gnawing it softly, trying to hold back all of his anticipation, dominating that playful tail, looking for that little red bottle he left on his trousers. Finally he found it, opening it and closing his eyes at the magnificent scent, his tail, now wrapped around Matthew’s scaly one leaned closer, and he dumped the whole content on it, oiling them well no leaving a dry spot. Beneath him Matthew squeaked at the sensation, and Alfred immediately leaned over him, kissing the nape gently.  It would never do for Matthew to think he was neglecting him.  

“You were a bad, bad demon Mattie. taking my things and scurrying away, dalliance with some demons in this house just to stripe them bare. Do you know how many demons have I killed for even touching you?” he confessed, their wet tails sliding between his ass cheeks, Matthew shook his head at the sensation, his body reacting at the stimulation, his hole clenching in dreaded anticipation. “You always tested my patience, I now return it.” and without anything else they nudged their way inside. 

Matthew gasped at the sudden intrusion, body trying to arch away to no avail. Blinking, trying to regain his senses he noticed with apprehension that his lower body was burning, but it wasn’t as painful as he imagined, their tails were wet with something that made him ache, spasm around them. Making him we- “What?” he asked horrified. That’s not how his body worked!

“This was a little present from Zea, taking directly from her boss” was the only answer, tails starting to thrust enthusiastically inside, giving him unwanted pleasure “you didn’t think I would make you bleed more than what was necessary did you?” he explained lightly, turning him around and sitting on his chest. Only then Matthew realized the other was naked, tanned muscles flexing, glistening with sweat erection standing proud.  

Alfred’s cock was terrifying. He had had his shares of lovers, but no one had something like that, so large and so wide, it would split him in half, it would kill him instantly. However, instead of fear, he shivered in anticipation. 

He didn’t want this, he was sure, but he couldn’t control his body’s reaction. His back pressed against his wings was painful and pleasurable at the same time, the tails inside him driving him mad. His mouth watered at the sight, his tongue itching for a taste of Alfred’s cock, the smell of precum, and sex making him mind swim away. ‘No!’ he screamed inside while he leaned forward,  the muscles on his neck stretching and tensing, sticking out his tongue to taste the precum on that hard and well endowed dick. He gasped involuntarily, mouth watering he wanted that dick on his mouth, he wanted it now, wanted it to stretch his mouth, break his gag reflex and pour all that sticky cum in-

‘No’ he thought furiously ‘that is not what I want’ 

“That’s it baby, don’t deny yourself” Alfred whispered fondly, thrusting their tails deeper in appreciation. watching Matthew gasp and arch eyes glistening with frustration at not being able to reach his shaft. How interesting, a few bite marks and stimuli and now Matthew was putty on his hands, being the little greedy monster he had been in their childhood. “Work for it Mattie” he said leaning forward kissing him, moaning as he tasted himself on his mouth. Beg me and I’ll help you get what you want”

Mauve eyes looked at him, begging silently for a release, to let him go. but his hands moved taking hold of his brother’s hips, opening his mouth wide, wrapping his lips around the cock head gasping away when their tails thrust harder. “I… can’t…” his mind was screaming that he should resist, but his senses wanted something different, wanted the dick on his face, wanted the tails violating his insides, wanted more of the pleasure that made him forget this nightmare. Frustrated with all the contradicting emotions he cried silently, even as he leaned over to rub his face against Alfred. He was losing himself, and when he felt a hand behind his head, he looked up opening his mouth in defeat. 

Unable to contain himself anymore Alfred pushed himself inside his brother’s mouth, gasping at how warm and wet it was, growling in appreciation as Matthew lapped shyly, inexperienced. He chuckled, thrusting shallowly “suck a bit more,… ah, yes like that, use your tongue more. That’s it.. good..” he groaned, pressing himself deeper into Matthew’s mouth, feeling how his lips stretched, how those teeth scraped over him, fighting for space.  Shuddering as the other gagged and tried to moan around him. However, when Matthew bit him accidentally, he lost it. Thrusting savagely inside, he lasted only a few seconds before coming filling that daring mouth with his come.  

Matthew coughed and swallowed, mouth sore from being stretched and abused. A hand made his way into his face, and massaged  the muscles lightly. Leaning on it, he licked it in appreciation before widening his eyes when the tails brushed against his prostate.   

Their tails squirmed inside, rubbing against his was, against his prostate, Alfred’s unforgiving hold on him the only thing preventing him from thrash wildly. Every new shock of pleasure ripping his sanity away. ‘I’m going to die’ he thought desperately ‘I’m going to die!’ 

‘Such a beauty, and it is all mine!’ he thought smugly, biting down on a nipple, tasting the blood and feeling the body trash under him. “Sorry Mattie, your blood is just so delicious” he explained, nuzzling his artwork before kissing him deeply, making the other taste his own blood, battling the squirming tongue into submission.  Red eyes always open, never missing any detail. 

“Ah- Alfred” he chocked, saliva flowing down the corner of his mouth “s- stop p- please…!” he begged closing his eyes, hands scrambling over the older demon’s body taking hold of his shoulder as an anchor. There was just too much pleasure. It made him cry and sob, his body burning.

the Monster on him smiled, tails thrusting harder, watching him arch in uncontrollable pleasure “who would have thought that you, the second prince of Leviathan, would make such wanton screams enough to make Asmodeus blush? You want my cock don’t you? Both of our tails are not enough for your greedy little hole”  he whispered hotly, their tails plunging harder, slamming onto his prostate over and over, pleasure ripping him mercilessly, his cock weeping unaided.  A harsh bite on his shoulder made him gasp in pain, Alfred’s red eyes glaring at him, jealousy and impatience shining through “I made you a question Mattie! Look at me!" 

Matthew opened and closed his mouth a few times, his speech disoriented by pleasure and pain, before giving up and just nodding eyes wide and crazed. It seemed enough for the demon since the tails retracted making him moan in protest, his body clenching trying to stop their exit. 

Alfred leaned down, licking his stretched hole, while pushing his wet tail against his lips. Not wanting to make him wait, or he would change his mind, the younger demon opened his mouth, welcoming the leathery tail inside. Mind too far gone to notice the taste, just enjoying the feeling of something hard thrusting into his mouth. 

Pleased at the attention Alfred withdrew his tail lathering his painful erection with scented oil groaning at the sensation before pressing the blunt head against the entrance. Matthew blinked at the sensation, something in him stilling at the feeling of Alfred’s girth against him - he was still bigger than his already stretched hole. The older demon smiled reassuringly, before slamming inside. 

Matthew screamed. He was being stretched beyond his limits, and not matter how much aphrodisiac he had absorbed, he still wasn’t accommodating enough for such a monster. He breathed, never aware of the other’s concerned gaze, he was only aware about how that large cock withdrew just to plunge back and make him scream - this time for a completely different reason. His mind fragmenting more on each thrust.  

"Scream for me Mattie. No one will hear you” and he did, his voice resonating on the stone walls, encouraging Alfred to fuck him harder, to make his brother scream more until his throat was raw and he knew nothing else but pleasure until death.

Never one to disappoint Alfred followed through, plunging himself inside, rotating his hips, hands on the other’s thighs pushing them forward, stretching Matthew more and more, feeling the other’s erection hit him every time, hearing the other scream with abandon. He felt powerful and heady. This being far more better than what he had imagined. 

Slowly he grabbed his brother’s cock, and Matthew stilled screaming shrilly as orgasm was ripped from him, destroying his soul. The pain and pleasure were too much, he just wished death! He arched Alfred’s body not strong enough to hold the rapture coursing through him before slumping back. 

“I love you Mattie” Alfred confessed, red eyes honest as he came, claiming him as his property. Matthew protested tiredly, hot cum washed his insides, he shut his eyes in despair at the burning sensation. Maybe, everything was over now. Maybe he would be free to lick his wounds alone, away from his monster of a brother. 

But Alfred wasn’t finished. With a flick of his wrist the ring of silver and ruby appeared on his hand. Matthew’s terrified gaze zeroing on it. If he had the strength he would have shaken his head, Alfred just smiled “and now, you’ll be mine” the gleeful voice his only notice before the cold metal met his pierced ear mixing flesh and blood with it. Matthew had no voice to scream, had no strength to arch away as he felt his soul been ripped apart, mashed with a foreign one, Alfred’s signature energy burning his ownership into his very core 

“you’re mine now” he whispered reverently, kissing his ear fondly, satisfied with his mark of ownership. he collected his brother closer, ready to fall in pleasured bliss, when the younger demon  gagged, gasping for air, eyes burning with renewed tears body spasming away. Alfred frowned sharply at the action before understanding dawned and ruffled his hair. “Sorry Mat I had forgotten about it” He rose from the bed, straddling his mate’s back running his hands soothingly on it.

“This is going to hurt babe, bear with me” was the sad warning before hands took his wing firmly and relocated the bone back  to its juncture with a swift 'pop’. Matthew wailed with a broken gurgling sound, his healed wing flapping erratically. The blue haired demon caressed it tenderly, watchful of his strength before kissing it fondly. “It’s ok Mattie, the wing is fine” he passed his hand over it, feeling the smooth scales. “Maybe you want something to numb it?” he thought out loud “your wings had always been very sensitive” Matthew moved his head, nodding clumsily.

He rose out of the bed, looking through his drawers until he found an ointment to numb pain. Looking back to his bed, he noticed Matthew was listless on it, the wing falling heavily on his small form plagued with bite marks. 'perhaps have I overdone it?’ he thought a bit guiltily before shaking his head. Matthew had chosen this mating ritual, (it had him a bit surprised to be honest, never expecting his twin to have such a masochistic streak) but perhaps Alfred hadn’t prepared enough in advance. 

In these rituals it was expected from the domineering mate to take care of his submissive right after it was done. Alfred had been naïve, basking in the afterglow instead of relieving Matthew. He grimaced rubbing his neck. No wonder Matthew had tried to steal and throw away the mating ring again! He had known Alfred wasn’t ready for the mating ritual! 

Guilt weighing on him -Matthew had every right to feel morose around him now- he approached the bed again: he had a lot to clean and massage. He worked in silence, kissing every wound softly, trying hard not to explode in anger and frustration at himself when the body beneath his flinched. “Shhh Mattie” he cooed lowly “I’m just cleaning you. Let me adore you” he cooed again taking a tense hand in his, kissing the tensions away. Matthew sighed both his mind and body numb to the sensations, everything was so blurry and he was so, so tired. The hands on his back, on his legs, on his wings felt so lovely, it lulled him to sleep quietly. Wishing this had just been a nightmare and he would wake up safe.


	2. Nightly Surprise (Snake!Arthur/Fem!Canada Au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is a De-anon from Pan’s tumblr. Snake!Arthur and Madeline, straight up smut.
> 
> Warnings: DP, light bondage and, well… Arthur is a Snake Man. :D
> 
> I hope you girls enjoy it :3

There was an awkward Pause. This was the one that said “bitch please, you think that’s awkward?” to all the other little awkward moments who scattered away in shame, and it was all because of this: one moment Madeline was straddling one of his coils (and he could feel her lust juices washing his scales) naked, her hands tied behind her, her full breasts hard with pleasure, that tantalizing blush covered her whole… and the next she had squeaked in confusion at seen the proof of his desire.

Arthur was no fool, he knew exactly why his little mouse was scared and stilled. He had been too euphoric with the knowledge that he had a woman -a gorgeous one at that- who saw more than just his otherworldly features and loved him for the man he was, that he had forgotten how certain parts of his sexual anatomy differed greatly from those of humans.

From what he gathered, Madeline was untouched, he only hoped this discovery wouldn’t scare her away. (For her own good, Arthur was almost too far gone to care about consent in light of a rejection, and he didn’t want to break his little mouse) Madeline on the other hand - unaware of her lover’s turmoil- bit her lip in worry. She knew sex was bound to be different when your partner was Half a Snake, but only now she realized how much it would be.

She couldn’t deny part of her melted at such prospect, -her body humming in dark morbid pleasure at the image of being stretched twice by the same man- but it left her befuddled as how to proceed. She had read how to suck a man’s dick, but with Arthur that seemed unfair… her mouth would never be big enough to suck two at the same time. Well, perhaps she would learn on the ride. Shifting uneasily -she really wanted both of them- she leaned over Arthur’s double cock and licked tentatively

It was wet and sticky, but the flavor wasn’t all that unwelcome -especially when Arthur gasped, his whole body shuddering, scales moving against her clit making her gasp in turn- and so she continued to lick, alternating between one and the other until a hand stopped her. “Arthur?” she asked licking her lips and looking at those surprisingly sad eyes. What? “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to poppet” was uttered lowly, the woman blinked in confusion, just what was this all about?

She stared at the snake man for a moment, and bit a snide retort as she realized the reason for Arthur’s dejection. So her little snake had issues huh? Smirking slightly she turned her head and gnawed softly at the hand on her shoulder before kissing the quickening pulse softly “Why should I? I like it.-” she made sure to make eye contact with those nostalgic green eyes to get the point across “Or is it that maybe you don’t like my mouth and want me to use my breasts?” she finished bouncing slightly in clear invitation, loving how the wet scales teased her inner folds.

Arthur blinked before smirking lightly, relief and arousal coursing through his veins. Part of him thanking whomever was responsible for making him cross path with this woman. He laughed darkly, kissing her lightly, one of his fangs poking her lower lip before the end of his tail pushed her flush against him, her face scant centimeters away from his arousal. “Use your breasts Madeline, I’d like to see you try and do it without hands”

She scowled playfully, gasping lightly when the tip of his tail flicked her exposing clit, circled her entrance  -getting wet- and then slid on the crack of her ass, teasing her. “I- is that a Challenge Mister … ah Ah- Arthur?” she gasped darkly rubbing herself against the tail before dragging herself to his double cock and rub her ample breasts against it. Her trapped hands taking hold of his tail, fondling it in a very suggestive way. 

Arthur’s eyes closed at the sensation. Ah, he would eat this woman whole one day, he would be so deep inside her she would never breath without thinking of him, would never see emeralds without her knees weakening, would never hear him without making her wet and welcoming. He would be seared inside her body, her heart and soul, just like she was beginning to do to him. But that was one day, right now, he just wants to enjoy the wonderful surprises Madeline had for him and his world.

Madeline used her thighs as a support while she accommodated her breasts so that Arthur was right between them. A feat more difficult than early imagined. But she wouldn’t give Arthur the pleasure of winning this.

He had issued a challenge, and she was going to meet up to it, she would be using her breast to make him come, see how he likes it when he comes helplessly like those young boys in the books she read. Slowly she started moving around, looking for a way her breasts could massage his dicks while licking them, soon she found her pace.

The Snake Man shuddered lightly at the feel of those soft breasts against him -it had been too long since he was intimate with someone, and the first time something like this happened. When he issued the challenge he hadn’t imagined she would follow through. She had proved him wrong though, perhaps he should give an incentive?

“Ah Arthur” she moaned against his cocks when the tail tugged freed from her grasp and rubbed against her intimacy again, in tandem with his growing excitement.

The rough and wet muscle against her, pleasuring her ceasesly made the knot on her lower loins tighten until she started to push herself against the tail, paying as much attention to the dicks in front of her as her clouded mind could. Arthur stroked her lower back, in a gesture that while seeking to calm only felt patronizing.

Determined to not be the first one to come that evening she leaning over her charge and in a last ditch of effort she trapped them between her breasts, and sucked on one. Madeline couldn’t feel him coming over the shock of her own orgasm. When she came from her high, however, she began to notice things, like how wet she was to the liquid on her face and on her mouth. 

It was different, the flavor that is, she had no man’s cum to compare, but Maddie had the suspicion cum shouldn’t feel so thick and delicious. It coated down her throat the same way her mother’s natural medicine did when the flu had irritated it. She felt giddy, the cum on her mouth tasted godly and the cum on her face felt like cream. “Arthur, your hand please” she asked lightly, not wanting to move her lips more than necessary so the sensation would last longer.

Arthur, believing Madeline wanted him to clear her eyes (quite a shame, she looked so fetching like that, contented smile with his mark splashed on her face…) was startled when, instead of letting him do so, she nuzzled his hand, rubbing her cheeks against it, covering more of her face with his seed and by the delighted sounds she was making it was almost as if she was doing it on purpose “Please Arthur” she repeated again licking the palm of his hand “It feels so good” Arthur was hard again.

“It is almost as if you do this on purpose” he hisses next to her ear, both hands lathering his drying cum on her face -and why the woman seemed to love it was beyond his comprehension (not that he minded of course, but he really wanted to see her eyes). Madeline hummed softly. Shuddering lightly when the bifurcated tongue flickered against her earlobe, and tried to not fight the ropes on her wrists, she wanted to touch damnit! But she knew she couldn’t.

Arthur had had bad experiences with past lovers who just waited until he was vulnerable to strike. She knew what she had to do in order for their relationship to progress. That’s why she had played with herself a little in the study before leaving pieces of her clothes on the floor or fingerprints with her juices on the wall behind her, enticing the snake man make him chase after her in a game of cat and mouse.

That’s the reason why she gave the other the ropes once Arthur had caught her in the corridor just before the greenhouse coils trapping her naked body with vertiginous speed, green eyes contracted with pleasure. He had at first looked at the ropes puzzled, before realization hit him and at once commencing his attack on her while he secured her hands on her back. For the sake of Arthur she would endure this, even when all she wanted was to bury her hand on his neck and kiss him senseless.

Arthur saw the struggle, but ignored it, pressing a cum stained thumb between her lips, his other hand stroking her neck possessively. Moaning lowly as she lapped at the digit. “You’ve been quite solicitous tonight little mouse, let me return the favor” and with little ado he coiled his tail around her middle hoisting her up until she was sitting on one of his coils. 

slowly he parted her thighs, dragging his fangs on the soft skin, feeling her pulse quicken, kissing one before breathing, her scent clouding his mind “delicious little mouse, tell me-” he whispered against her, his breath wafting on her, teasing her clit “- will you have enough to feed me tonight?” he asked, his tongue sipping her juices obscenely.  she moaned feeling herself grow tighter, warm juices flowing at his words, at his actions.

It only made Arthur’s desire blaze ‘She is like this just for me. Wet and shameless, begging me to fuck her, to be mine.  _ _mine__!’ he thought darkly  taking one nipple into his mouth -careful to not bite her or hurt her with his fangs, slowly he traced her entrance before pressing inside, just enough to feel her tense, flutter around his finger and then relax.

“Worry not pet, we will go slowly” he assured her pressing slowly in deliberate circles, touching her inner walls, feeling the liquid heat drip down his finger onto his hand. Madeline nodded, relaxing more against him, trying hard not to tense again. She had experimented with herself before however feeling a foreign finger was a bit worrisome.

Right now was not the time to have second guesses, but she felt a bit insecure. would she be able to fit them both? On their first time? She had read her hymen had to break, so  it was bound to be painful but- “Pay attention to me mouse” Arthur chided lightly, when had his face been so close to hers? “do you believe me a little a man to leave you unsatisfied?” he asked in earnest, but before she could answer he attacked her mouth plunging deep inside.

there was something graceful and erotic how his thin tongue wrapper around her bigger one when they kissed, as if he wanted to mark it as his own as well. It was not as smooth as hers, maybe a bit raspy, but the sensation of that, and his cold fangs against her lips were glorious. Madeline was adventurous, lingering danger turned her on, sometimes more than tenderness, and feeling those fangs against her made her toes curl.  

Having her properly distracted, Arthur used the opportunity to keep on stretching her. Even with her abundant lubrication, thrusting inside was going to hurt her, even more if she was not prepared. Fingering her clit a few times, he teased her entrance once again. She was so wet his fingers slid easily “Arthur!” she squeaked when she felt the tip of his tail nudge her ass again, this time wet and arousing. She squirmed uneasily, the tip was obviously thinner than the rest of his tail, but the girth was still more than that of two fingers.

“Calm down mouse, it’s just me” his voice came soothing, a hand on her hip, caressing slowly, and with a sigh she let the tail breach inside. It felt strange she decided, once the initial discomfort was gone, she could feel the wet tail wiggling inside her, sometimes touching the fingers inside through her thin wall. Little by little she began to relax and delight herself on Arthur’s patient stretching. The male himself, enjoying the gratifying sounds his little pet made just for him.

“Madeline, dear, do you want this?” he found himself asking her. The woman looked at him contemplatively, mauve eyes examining him, before nodding, relaxing against him, spreading her legs a bit more. Arthur smiled and kissed her chastely, a hand stroking her cheek soothingly while the other aligned his cocks to her stretched entrances before slowly sliding home. Arching her back in a silent scream, she tried to close her eyes trying to will away the burning sensation.

For both, breathing was a privilege long denied, for different reasons. Arthur had to reign himself, remembering to go slowly, feeling with a sense of trepidation and pure male smugness how the thin wall protecting his love broke under his pressure. Madeline couldn’t find any solace in which to hold to but the one whose pressure was breaking her.Opening her eyes with a low hiss only to find emeralds looking at her wondrously. 

“You are beautiful Madeline” Arthur confessed, honesty dripping on every syllable "you can’t imagine how happy of a man you’ve made me.-“ he continued, running one had on her cheek, never breaking eye contact ”-Now please pet, open up to me, let me show you the greatest of pleasures" he smiled softly. But all she could see was the strain on his body, and the love on his eyes and she couldn’t fathom the idea of ever denying something to the creature in front of her when he looked like that.

Giving one last nod, she relaxed again, feeling his lover slide in further and further until their bodies touched. Sighing pleasurably, Arthur pressed himself flush against her, her accelerated heartbeat soothing his frazzled nerves.

How much time has it been since he was close to someone, since he had allowed himself to be close to someone? He couldn’t remember. he could attest however, that he had never felt this way with another woman, or man. The sensation was terrifying and he wants to bury his head on her ample bosom like a child. But he is not a child, or even human, so instead he trails kisses from her breasts up to her neck and into her mouth, finger thrumming on her lower stomach waiting for her to signal their dance.

A few moments later she does it by raising one leg and circling around him. The Snake Man catching quickly, takes the other rubbing the outer thigh and then pushes inside, relishing on the other’s cry, and then subtly a moan. It may have been a long time since he laid with someone, but his arts were still as good as new. in no time he would have her grinding against him, begging for more.  True to his word, short enough, she was clenching around him, urging him with her leg to keep going, to keep claiming her, moaning with enthusiasm.

“P- please Arthur, I- I want to touch-” the woman cried eyes watering in frustration, breasts bouncing slightly on his hands, but the Snake man kept going, pleasure flaring at the sight of those tears “Ssssorry pet” he soothed, licking her tears and his cum away “one day” he promised, thrusting harder inside, closing his eyes at the feeling of her clenching on his words. One day he would let himself truly vulnerable with her, until then “I am ssssurrounding you mouse, feel me all around you, in you” you are already touching me, and one day you will touch my soul.

And she understands (or so does he hope) because she just tightens her legs around him, forcing him deeper and deeper inside her, curving her back so she can lick and kiss his nipples, doing everything she can to touch him, be one with him. And Arthur doesn’t want anything more at the moment than to be one with her, inside her, forever.

Their love making doesn’t last long. Both of them sensitive and emotional, their thrust becoming more and more erratic, their noses touching, her ample breasts pressed flush against him, her mouth moaning, screaming his name with each breath, and when he fingers her once more she explodes, carrying him over the line as well. 

When he comes down from his high, he discovers Madeline has passed out. Snorting warmly, he curls around her, his half hard cock still buried deep inside -it would retreat back inside him after a while- hands deftly untying hers before pressing her sleeping form against him. His large tail coiling around them as a natural nest. Sighing in pleasure he kissed his beloved before falling asleep. tomorrow would be a wonderful day. 


	3. Snake!England/Fem!Can pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> implications of giving birth.

“That’s it?” Madeline panted, voice hoarse and body still tired. Arthur had been a great husband and midwife (though Madeline suspected all Snakemen were), and he had cleaned her up while she had been asleep after giving birth to their child. Truth be told she didn’t know what to expect, but a giant egg hadn’t been on her list.  

and gods did that come out of her? no wonder it had been so painful, even after the numbing medicine Arthur had given her! The egg was as large as Arthur’s forearm and wide as his head, it was also in a nice pattern of red, forest green and yellow. 

Arthur just smiled, caressing his wife gently, a happy, absolutely paternal smile on his face. “Most of it little mouse” he kissed her forehead, pushing the egg into its mother’s sensitive bosom “the shell has hardened and smoothed, that’s why you felt the water break. The last of it will come from external heat, so we must keep it warm” The human just nodded, touching the egg in wonder. Si this was how Snakemen reproduced? It was weird, but then again, she knew nothing with Arthur would ever be normal human. 

“Hello little egg, how do you like outside?” she whispered lightly, nuzzling the smooth surface of it just to widen her eyes looking at Arthur bewildered.

“I think I felt movement!” Madeline exclaimed, heart hammering on her chest being trapped in some kind of overly maternal feeling. “Hello little one. I’m mommy” Arthur laughed joyuously before placing a hand on the egg as well “and I’m daddy, now sleep, we will keep you warm until you want to get out” and with that he took Madeline gently, trying had to not move her, or accidentally  hurt her as he coiled around her and their child, keeping all of them warm.

Madeline, still tired, just complained once or twice as she was moved into place, but even then she couldn’t stop from petting their child. Not soon after Arthur had coiled properly she fell asleep hand holding the egg.  The Snake man smiled affably at the scene, heart growing warmer, he had never thought this could happen. He had gotten used to the idea of being alone, but now, now not only did he have a mate, he would soon have a child of his own, a little serpent of a kid that would slither around playing mock-hunt, try to gnaw his tail on his or hers first theething- Arthur sighed deeply, trying to contain his tears.

Life was wonderful.

“I love you Madeline, little one.” 


	4. Superhero AU (UkFem!Can)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part of Panoramiccc's Superhero AU, where England is a villan, Fem!Canada and America are heroes, and Male!Canada is a pediatrician.
> 
> Arthur finds out Madeline's secret identity

He breathed in. Lips pressing into a scowl trying hard to forget about the damned scent, but it seemed to follow him like a hex. Like a curse that takes hold of his mind and makes him hallucinate with a woman who approaches him, kisses him tenderly and smells dicretely of roses and cinnamon with and a touch of honey.

He can still smell it, even if there had been more and an hour since their unhappy encounter. He could still feel her heartbeat under his fingers, he could still see those frightened mauve eyes unhindered by glasses, her breath on his cheek, the way those coral lips trembled. He felt as if his house was smelling like that blasted perfume he had searched daily just for her.

He knew Madeline had hidden depths, anyone who took a moment to analyze her would know. But he didn’t want those to be the things that made her thick! Or did he?

Suddenly, the ring of his phone broke through the hazy red atmosphere, quickly he retrieved it.

“Hello?” he asked, composing his voice, knowing perfectly well who could be on the other line.

“A- Arthur? I- I’m sorry, something showed up I can’t go to our date” her meek voice doing nothing but anger him more. Once he would have been sad, but then he would smile fondly his heart warming at hearing her voice.

Not now.

“Don’t worry poppet. I was just about to call, I have received awful news” ‘I had already cancelled the booked restaurant, hoping you would show up there, still frightened and being ignored by the Maitre’ he thought darkly

“O- Oh is everyone alright?”

“No, but I will make sure they will. That’s my job after all”

He could feel her warm smile through the phone “That’s so thoughtful of you Arthur. Well I have to go now, have a good night Arthur. Be safe”

he couldn’t help the tug of his lips “you too poppet. be safe”

The line went dead, and with it his smile.

Blasting situation he had gotten himself into. And damned wom- No. It was not her fault Arthur was fond of her, it was not her fault Arthur had a doubl life, but it was her fault for leading a double life as well!

'Calm down Doctor Kirkland’ he thought heavily, hands on his head, tugging at his hair 'she doesn’t know, you should act as if you don’t’

“As if I don’t know?!” he laughed bitterly, with the humor of a man whose dreams were crashing “how can I? Tell me, how can I ignore that?”

'She would be mine’ he had thought, looking at her blushing face. Noticing the little things that made her smile, made her blush and feel loved. He had imagined them, perhaps in a few years, sharing an apartment with a little balcony where they would have little plants and roses in pots. They would bicker a little, complain about work, perhaps even daring to do some risque fantasies. It had made him happy, made him wish he was normal, a better man for her -and he would have, he knew as a man who knew about how minds worked, that he would have let that go if he had her by his side.

'She will be mine’ he had thoght happily, but now he knew. And the truth hurt him, pierced his chest and ripped his heart, devouring it and filling it with dark and unhealthy longing for the only person who ever made it beat.

“She was never mine”

But… he would make her want to be his, and then he would have her. Arthur smiled, going to his cabinet and retrieved his whiskey. Was it for celebration or to drown his sorrows? He didn’t know

Slowly he drank the golden liquid. Well, at least now, he wouldn’t need to leave his bad habits behind.

He smirked. Celebration it was.


	5. Superhero AU (Arthur 'kidnaps' Matt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #Arthur had to kidnap someone sooner or later right?

“Mister Williams”

The doctor blinked, hands on his coat tensing a little. He was on his way home -and just when did that shared appartmente become his home? It must be Alfred’s fault- his shift had ended and as far as he knew no one had been in this alley, just who could it be?

Turning around he encountered face-to-face with a masked, shaprly dressed man. One he knew very well. The end of the alley was far away, he wouldn’t reach it on time. Alfred would be angry, he had gotten careless.

“Good evening Arthur. Is there a reason you have approached me this evening?” he answered, voice uneven, the grip on his pockets tight. One would never be sure with this man, one day he would invite you for a cup of tea, the next he would poison you with a knife. He was deranged, perhahps not without hopes for salvation, but he didn’t want to find out.

He just knew Arthur was unpredictable and had a very good reason to be angry at him.

“Just business you will find doctor.” he replied rakishly leaning over, Matthew not missing the way he drew a knife “I was just wondering if you would accompany me tonight, that’s all”

“Is this a kidnapping proposal?” he breathed lightly in a bit of relief. So Arthur wasn’t going to kill him!

“Very smart. Not as sharp as Madeline, of course, but far better than your ‘boyfriend’”

“and if I refuse the offer?”

“You won’t like it”

“Very well, should I follow you, or will you render me unconcious?” the Pediatrician sighed, taking out his cellphone and handing it to the murderer. Well, hopefully he would still be in Arthur’s 'good graces’ while captive.

Arthur blinked perplexed, taking the mobile. Just like that? He had expected a bit of struggle, he had heard Madeline say how much of a brawler the young pediatrician was when angered. He studied his captive, he didn’t look like someone who would plan his escape quickly - but Arthur knew appereances were deceiving.

“I would rather you to be unconcious doctor. Now if you don’t mind-” was the last thing Matthew heard before something smelling awfully similar to chloroform was pressed against his nose.

Arthur held the body once it gave out. Perhaps being diplomatic had its perks. Smirking he threw the doctor’s mobile into a trashcan.

The night was looking better and better.


	6. ACtalia pt1 Amecan stolen kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of a series of one-shot for Panoramiccc's amazing Assassin's Creed AU where Alfred is an assassin and Matthew is a templar fighting their most dangerous nemesis: the UST. 
> 
> A stolen kiss in Venice.

“Stop right there assassin!” a Templar guard shouted in the deserted alleyway, his sprint coming to halt, sword poised to strike his assiduous enemy “you have nowhere to go. No more hay to hide you from god now” he mocked, his heart beating rapidly, his body shivering slightly in anticipation.

“I could say the same Templar” the rougue mocked, turning around with easy, that blasted smile the only thing he could see under his hood- but he was sure those haunting blue eyes were twinkling in mirth. Just how Dare He! “no other guards to save your spectacular behind.”

Again with the libertine and sinful flirting. Did he not realize they were men? How dare he insult him, group him with some woman- some love sick maiden?!

“You wish” he growled, body hunching before striking, mind clouded.

Their fight didn’t last long, just a few exchange of blades, a well aimed kick and a push before the templar found himself incapacitated, pressed against the wall his sword away from his reach and the hooded man’s face near his.

“Now that I think about it, we should drop this whole formality thing. We have known each other from a long time now.” he began, his easy voice filtering over his mind, noticing the cursed man was not out of his personal space after throwing his sword away. Hyper aware of the hand stroking his weaponized wrist, how their clothes smashed, how his warmth was so close to his, of his scent, of his rapid breathing… he could almost swear of hearing the blood surging through his veins “It is almost as if we knew each other since childhood Matthew”

The use of his given name brought him back from his musing, just to push him down the cliff of hysteric denial. “How dare you assassin!”

“Call me Alfred” came the suave reply, voice hitched and heavy before kissing the infuriating little Frenchman softly, not being able to contain himself. Everything about him enchanted him, and when the other’s breath hitched he knew Matthew would be the bane of his life before his mind went blank and his kiss evolved into a frenzy. Never expecting the other to struggle vainly before answering with equal passion, lips moving against each other, hands freeing themselves only to go under his hood and grasp his blond hair tightly.

Opening his mouth the templar sighed, battling the opportunist tongue away, drinking the taste of his millon times damned enemy, wanting nothing more than for that hot an wet tongue to map his mouth and continue to attack him intimately; wanting nothing else but to take hold of the other, push their bodies together conquer that cheeky mouth making the other feel the many frustrations and horrors he had experienced since they first exchanged blows that cursed night in Italy.

It was heaven, and hell. Matthew fell his body among the clouds before being raked past the coals, the only thing true being the body pressed against him, the erratic breathing, the mouth kissing him demanding, the tongue battling against his - and when he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) of those clear blue eyes watching him intensely.

“Alfred” he breathed in disbelief, momentary pleasure not enough to overide the sense of wrogness and want of their situation. Alferd smiled mirroring his feelings, heart beating wildly, not entirely believing this to be real -even if the body on his hands felt warm, even if his fingertips could feel his enemy’s heartbeat.

“Don’t think about this Mattie. Just feel” was the only excuse his tumbling mind could think of before taking hold of that intoxicating mouth again. Gods, how much had he desired to do that? How much had he wondered how those lips would feel like? How that mouth would taste like?

How that lean body would feel against his? Groaning into the kiss he pressed the other closer, hands traveling from the small of his back to grope that plump and tight behind. Just how could any decent man have such a sinuous features?

But that move seemed to break the magic. Matthew cringed at the sensation, and crashed down from his high to the horrifying reality before him. Panicked he pushed his enemy away, having enough mind to grab his sword before fleeing -the way the other would have loved to see him flee the first time they saw each other.

Not now.

“Fuck!” was the only thing the assassin could say once everything dawned on him, passing his hands through his ruffled hair. He could still feel Matthew’s warmth on it.

A few blocks away the templar cursed his lack of foresight, the taste of the assassin still fresh on his mouth.

only one thought the same in their frantic minds.

_God please forgive me for I have sinned_


	7. ACtalia pt2 Amecan bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In here, Templar!Matthew has wounded Assassin!Alfred in battle, and has been fretting over with guilt and concern for ~~Alf-~~ _the assassin_ he injured, until he is approached by another assassin and convinced to visit a sick Al who has been calling after him.
> 
> If you expect them to make up, grow flowers and dress their children in pretty french dresses you may as well skip this. If you want to see Templar!Matt in turmoil and realize he has hormones and want to see a sick Alfred and a few more surprises (read something about touching a naked man) come here and get cozy :3

_“Eh?”_

__“Ever since he woke up he has been calling after you”_ _

__“You lie”_ _

__“No. That’s the truth”_ _

__“In the case I accept to visit him, how will I leave the visit alive?”_ _

__“Trust me and we will trust you”_ _

That’s how he had found himself in this situation. Trapped in a room somewhere in a house in Venice, dressed in plain clothes. The assassin had blindfolded him and disoriented him well, and he had truly no idea where he was. The windows were closed, heavy drapes hiding them, he knew the house must have had a chimney for the heat radiating on the far wall couldn’t be the product of anything else. Even if he had the will to investigate which house it was so he could identify the assassin’s lair he knew he wouldn’t be able to.

Not that he wanted just that when he had his rival on the bed in front of him, burning in fever, brown furrowed as if he was having a nightmare.

Matthew didn’t want to look in too deep about his reaction upon finding the assassin in such state. It could have been anyone’s reaction upon finding a friend burning with fever - but he was not. So Matthew tried to ignore how he had yelled for cold water while he approached the sick man and touched his forehead with a bare hand: he had better things to do at the moment, like washing wounds and refreshing heated skin.

Squeezing the cloth on the basin he washed the assassin’s body carefully in order to lower the fever. He had even asked for new clean bandages so he could clean the ugly wound (it at least appeared to not be infected, but it still hadn’t closed either) and the medicine he had left on the spots he knew the assassins frequented. Even so, his fingers tingled with guilt whenever they touched the other’s skin, more so when he scoped the assassin and bandaged him again.

He had known his sword could kill. He was no alien to death, but there had been something terrible at feeling his sword wash with Alfred’s blood. There had been something akin to despair when his sword pierced his flesh, when the assassin fell down, hand on his side, blood soaking his white clothes- he didn’t know what to do anymore. He could admit shamefully to himself of having nightmares (the caption on his sword, “forged in the name of god, ye not guilty” doing nothing to ease his mind), and of wondering once or twice of taking the incriminatory herbs of those heretic women, just because they supposedly had curative properties and Al- the assassin could use anything right then.

Somehow he had never thought that one day he would kill Alfred. He knew he would - just not so soon. He had dreamed of a duel when they both were old, perhaps on an open field, preferably at sunset (for more romanticism) and then he would kill the Assassin. Not before! and much less now! They hadn’t even had a year since they met! He couldn’t sleep easily. Some cursed mix of guilt, anguish and worry weighing on him, blinding his conscience when he left Templar medicine on spots he knew Assassins frequented just because he was sure they would reach Al-  _ _the Assassin__.

His musings were cut short by a hand on his wrist. 

“Mattie" came the raspy voice. The templar turned around half hopeful, half terrified at having to talk to the man he almost killed. the Assassin looked tired, eyes merely open, he could feel the trembles of that hand on his wrist, but there was an infectious smile on his face. Matthew was unable to stop the tugging of his lips, relief flooding through him. 

"Yes Alfred?” he answered, never noticing the informal way of his address. More relieved at finding out that he seemed alright, tired, but he didn’t seem to be near the edge of death. So why had he been called? Matthew frowned, could it be a trap? ‘No,’ he concluded idly noticing how the grip on his wrist loosened and the hand travelled from his forearm to his arm in slow, deliberate circles 'it is more of him being a sick and spoiled child' 

“I’m glad you’re here” he mumbled earnestly, killing every frustration spat the templar had ready just for him. Right now Alfred seemed more like a child than a grown man who knew how to kill and wield a blade. Matthew sighed and recalled the few memories he had of his mother babying him when he was little before scolding lightly:

“The others told me you made a ruckus on my absence”

“Don’t look like that. I’m glad you’re safe” he whispered, warm hand caressing his cheek before sliding to his nape and starting to massage his scalp lightly. Matthew jumped at the sudden touch. Touching his arms was alright, but this kind of attention came out of nowhere. 

“A- Alfred?!” He asked, trying hard not to squirm at how those warm fingers on his scalp made him relax. Had he been always this Touchy feely? Why was Alfred behaving in such manner? Had he forgotten Matthew was the one who placed him on the sick bed?  

“So cold Mattie, why don’t you call me Al?”

'Because we don’t know each other that much to have such familiarity’ the templar thought frustrated. But he couldn’t exactly be rude to a sick man so instead he just answered non committing “You’re sick Alfred”

That seemed to make the smile drop and be replaced by a serious frown. Those fingers on his scalp stopping. “Mattie… I’m going to die am I not?” he asked voice low, blue eyes inquisitive. 

The sheer panic on his face at those words made Alfred squirm, interrupting the hasty and desperate "No! You’re-“ with fingers on Mattie’s lips. Had they always been so dry? 

"Ever since we laid together you’ve never called me Alfred. Not even during missions” the sick man explained, blue eyes serious, nose touching. 

Matthew stopped, violet eyes widening. Oh no. No no no no no no no! Right then everything became clear, from how uncomfortable but vehement that assassin had been on taking him here. The Frenchman had thought it was because he was asking a Templar to accompany him- not this!  This just wasn’t happening, he was just having a twisted nightmare and the man in front of him wasn’t real. But when the sick assassin tugged his arm to embrace him, neck feeling his labored breath he knew better than deny reality.  'No way… he’s delirious with fever!’ “Al?” he asked in confusion, trying to find a way to get free without seeming rude.

Since when did he care if he was rude to an assassin or not?!

He gasped lightly when those lips kissed him lightly, and before he tried to squirm away the assassin confessed in a broken and scared voice “I’m glad you came with me to Italy Mattie. I had a terrible nightmare,-”

The templar had a bad feeling about this. “Al, you need to rest-”

“You were a Templar Mattie!” was the despairing confession, making Matthew tense in panic on his enemy’s hold. The assassin mistaking that as him being insulted by such an scenario quickly pushed away to look at his violet eyes, hands caressing his neck “But I know you are not. You could never be” he appeased voice hard with emotion, blue eyes earnest. 

If he didn’t know the fever was real Matthew would have said he was faking it. Using it to taunt him, using the excuse to touch him so personally. But even then he wouldn’t be able to shake the heavy weight of guilt on his heart. Nodding he just pushed the man on the bed before taking a step back. “You should go to sleep Al”

“Not without you” came the quick reply, the Englishman sitting up, kicking off the covers of his bed. Matthew just massaged the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation. 

“Let me bathe first then. I can’t sleep with you while still dirty”

He had expected to use the excuse and get out of the room, of that place, and run back to his home, away from the guilt, the loving touches and the feverish man. But as god would have it, his punishment wasn’t over, just as he was turning around the other assassin went into the room a jar of water and a basin on his hands. Quietly, he retrieved the other basin and the used cloth and left the room. Matthew could feel the patronizing and mirthful taunt the man was giving him.

'be truly vulnerable to your enemy’ he seemed to taunt 'show yourself nude to him, wash your dirt and expose your clean flesh to the man who now thinks you are his lover and not the templar who almost killed him’

Matthew bit his lip. He knew exactly what washing this way meant. There was nothing he could do though, so closing his eyes he untied his shirt, feeling those blue eyes glued to every bit of skin revealed.  

The sound of water filling the basin startled him turning around to see Alfred holding the jug with on hand, rag of cloth on the other “Alfred you shouldn’t!”

The Englishman snickers at little at the command, but does as told, sitting back on the bed, but not before taking Matthew’s hand, guiding him as well until he is standing at the feet of it. “come here let me.” he asks, voice coy and warm and loving, and Matthew is too stunned at the bizarre situation to deny. 

Matthew was no stranger of being bathed. He had been by his mother when he was a child and by some servants when he was too tired for a bath. But now was different. The hands holding the wet cloth against his skin wasn’t that of a servant, they were of an assassin, a man who believed they were lovers, a man who he tried hard to deny having certain attraction for. His skin was much more aware that hand’s travel, tensing and waiting for any movement less ordinary and more intimate. His heart beating faster with each swipe, whenever the fingers holding the cloth would touch his skin. It was maddening, unwanted; it was the kiss on that alley all over again.

“It has been so long, I missed you” he said voice cutting on his innocent honesty “I missed your body” he mouthed against his side, right over the place where he had his wound. Matthew trembled making the assassin smile “and I missed us. Your heart is beating so fast”

“You are really warm.” Mathieu mused out loud. Well he was feverish and delirious, he wouldn’t remember this; and hadn’t god said to confess the things that weighed on your heart? 'Tell them and be free?’. Closing his eyes he mustered courage, and placing a hand over the one holding his hip. “You- you had me worried.”

Alfred breathed sharply, hands grabbing his trembling lover harshly. 'I know’ he wanted to say 'you were fidgety, I’m sorry I worried you’ but he knew better. Although blessed with both a great mind and body, his lover was very skittish. Always careful to keep a veneer of seriousness and control, admitting that he knew how he felt while in such a vulnerable state would close him up. Alfred didn’t want that so he just kissed his wrist, feeling the calloused created by the switchblade with his lips.

“Al?” the younger male murmured stilling when those blue eyes shone up to him, undressing his soul - hyperaware of that calloused thumb circling his wrist. Why was the room suddenly hot? Unaware of his lover’s turmoil Alfred continued his work, swipes long and languid, hands becoming bolder and daring splaying over and caressing just under the pretext of washing, and when he reached a nipple Mathieu moaned. A sound that went straight to his groin.

It was 'it feels good’ and 'you have wanted this’ against 'he’s is a man’ and 'he is an assassin’ it was a very heated and confusing battle on his head, leaving his body vulnerable to the assassin’s sinuous touches. Matthew doesn’t know when were his breaches untied, of the cheerful chuckle at finding out he didn’t wear anything under them, when his body was pulled flush against a bandaged back; he just knows of how he was being engulfed by Alfred, slouching against his worked chest, between his bent legs, of the scratchy feeling of those bandages against his back, of how his backside is pressed against his clothed intimacy, of those warm hands on his torso, one hand massaging one of his nipples the other with the wet cloth sliding lower and lower, avoiding his groin and washing his inner thigh.

Matthew wanted to scream, instead he tensed at the nice sensation.

“Raise your leg” is the soft command. But Matthew can feel the darkness hiding on it; he can feel the hand splayed over his sensitive loins, possessive and wanting, even through the drying cloth. He is scared, realizing it feels good to be caged, to be like this, by  _ _him__. But even then his conscience and fear is not enough to stop him from raising his leg steadily, of bending it nearer so that Alfred can clean it, the cold water making him hiss in what he hoped was displeasure. He tried not to tremble at the attention, the body against him was so hot and the water was so cold… not to mention how intimate this all felt. Matthew tried to swallow the renewed scream of his conscience at whole sense of wrongness, it was wrong - but until Alfred was sleeping he couldn’t get free.

No, his body was not responding to the touches, and his heart was beating fast because of worries for the sick man behind him, and his head was feeling dizzy because of the bizarre situation he got himself into - not because of the man (and how could he be anything else but a man when he felt the other respond to their closeness?) treating him kindly, like how he would treat his future spouse, or his child.

He could feel his healthy heartbeat, the warm breath on his shoulder, the warm nose on his cheek, the hands submerging the cloth before rinsing it, patting his other leg gently to wash it. The Frenchman bit his lip to prevent any moan or desirous gasp to leave his lips, but even then his body betrayed him, leaning against the broader frame, neck arching, exposing it almost obscenely. Alfred laughed at the reaction, hand sliding further until he was near his lover’s groin and- and a fast hand stopped his track.

“I think I can do that” was the breathless yet firm warning, and the Englishman nodded lightly. Next time he would do better. With a few fast swipes he was done, body blushing at noticing the rising proof of his contentment. Almost immediately he was maneuvered on the bed, noticing belatedly that the arms around him did not ease his hold after he threw the cloth into the basin.

“It is done, let’s sleep now” came the cheerful -albeit tired voice- behind him.

“you must be joking!” Matthew hisses scandalized at such implication “I am not presentable for bed!”

“You are for mine.” came the sleepy reply, the kiss on his nape chaste, the hands on his body telling a different tale.

Matthew did not move until Alfred was sleeping soundly behind him, and even then he couldn’t muster the energy to leave the bed and get dressed.

perhaps he wasn’t born to be a templar.

Perhaps, or perhaps he  _ _was__  born to be a templar - just not a templar  _ _to__  him.

The realization did nothing but shake his heart


	8. ACtalia pt3 Amecan marking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This happens perhaps a year or so after the events of Healing (in which Matthew wounded Alfred and nursed him back to health) and other major events in their life, which are of course spoilers. If you don’t care about them and want to read more delicious angst and these two men getting closer to the point of no return you are welcome :3 But a friendly warning: it contains blood, violence and themes that should be treated with discretion.

“You are possessed Alfred! Stop it. Let go of me!” Matthew screamed Altered greatly by how things had turned out. They had been fighting -having accidentally encountered each other again- on a bridge in Venice when suddenly a part had fallen and the both ended up in the river. It had been an embarrassing affair -his clothes were not optimal for swimming- and he had owed his life to Alfred who, somehow, had managed them both to a shore. It had been by sheer luck that they, half drowned, had found some abandoned shed to pass the night.

Or so he had thought. The recent actions screamed nothing else but suspicion and, as Alfred shoved him to the ground, he realized with apprehension he had swum into a trap. The shed had been too tidy, the wooden floor and walls well oiled and without a sign of decay, the sparse furniture hadn’t been covered with cloth, and it smelled too fresh for just being abandoned. He had noticed the existence of an oil lamp too late. He had been too bothered in trying not to watch Alfred’ naked body, and fighting the strange feeling of gratitude towards an Assassin to notice Alfred Approaching with a dagger until it was too late. 

 

Thanks to their previous encounters Matthew was certain their strengths were not equal, Alfred probably due to having to climb building to do his foul assassinations was stronger, and Matthew had learned to rely on his speed to defeat him, or fight him to stand still. So he knew the only way to push away the man currently on top of him was to play as dirty as the opportunity presented itself until he could get hold of his sword and fight on even grounds.

“I don’t think so Mattie” the Assassin said, voice heavy and cutting, as if he had been drunk on a good wine. Blue eyes flashing dangerously, as the light reflected on the knife “If I am possessed then it would be by desire, and I am not enough of a fool to let you go when you are on my arms again!”

For the first time since he knew Alfred he was afraid, and he was ashamed of such cowardice. It was entirely his fault that he was in a trap, just how did he think stripping before this obsessed man was a good idea? Matthew was well aware of the Assassin’s desires (and was well aware of his own, adulterous and sinful longing for the man in front of him)no matter how grateful he had been, or the fact he he now owed his life to the Assassin. He knew better than to strip himself nude.

He was afraid of what the man on top of him would do. He had a good idea of what he wanted, but the knife was out of place, and that unnerved him greatly, adding more and more blood to what could come if he wasn’t fast enough to grab the safety of his sword.  Was this perhaps some greatly elaborated ruse just to exact revenge for almost killing him earlier? Matthew frowned, even as he kicked the tan man on the gut,  turning around and scurrying away to his sword. If that was the reason for such actions Alfred would have done so earlier, not now. 

“I had clearly told you that day I wanted nothing of this” he spat, body tensing before kicking the Englishman on the gut, taking the momentum to push the other away and scurry to grab his sword, only to fall down when the blue eyed man tugged heartily on his heel. He only had time to put his hand before him, trying to keep his face from damage as he slammed onto the floor, Alfred making a swift work on immobilizing him, a shirt binding his wrist, a broad hand on his shoulder, and his weight putting him in place. 

Matthew had never truly thought how different their bodies were until that night on Alfred’s sick bed, and now, with the warm naked body pressed flush against his back, a hand on his scalp pushing him more and more against the cool wooden floor,  the treacherous feeling of wanted to be caged came back in full force “Yes I remember our little conversation very well” was the mocking answer followed by lips brushing his neck lightly, he tried to move away from that burning caress, but the body above him wouldn’t budge. “I wonder if you remember it too” and without further ado he was turned around, face to face with Alfred. Matthew had no chance of rebutting the question for the knife was placed on his chest as a clear warning: Alfred was now in control and there was nothing he could do.

Matthew shouldn’t have found it pleasurable, but he did, and groaning into the hard kiss he hated himself for how twisted he had become. Alfred smiled at the breakthrough and let the knife warm on Matthew’s skin a few more moments before ending the kiss, blue eyes joyous and demented with love and possession.  

“That’s good Mattie, relax” he whispered lovingly, feeling the body tense on the knife’s travel. “I will never hurt you. but I need you to relax”  and with that he sank lower, kissing his love sleeping member, relishing on the restrained shake before moving to his inner thigh, caressing the skin lightly before kissing it reverently once, twice and then letting the knife touch it. Matthew tensed immediately “No Alfred, stop-”

“It is necessary Mattie, now relax, I don’t want to hurt you” he commanded again, confused as to why Matthew still believed he would do something foul. He would never raise a blade to harm Matthew, would never tighten his embrace  _just so_  and kill him. Matthew doubted, and it only gave more reasons to Alfred to just get on and over with it.

_After this you will have no doubts about us. Alfred this you won’t be able to deny us anymore. You will have no other option but accept you love me as well._

The first cut was the powerful whip of desire. The cutting attraction that trapped them. The sizzle of the friction between two worlds that haunted him ever since they saw each other that night on the tangy bar of Venice. The one that fueled their encounters, the one that had robbed them of all sanity that afternoon in an alley, only to remember the sin they had committed over and over again until want overrode all morals and left them wanting and hating themselves for such want.

The second cut was the mark of anguish and desperation, the certain sword that butchered his heart and soul upon finding out and regaining the memories of that night on his sick bed. Of remembering the feeling of Matthew’s naked body between his arms, between his legs, pliant and desirous, just to lose him to a noblewoman. A noblewoman who, he hated to admit, was everything he was not, and would never be: had an amiable air, and an irreproachable conduct and reputation, a true lady. He could grudgingly see that, hadn’t their destinies found each other, she would have been the perfect one for Matthew. It only hurt more to remember their heated encounter on the church, moments away from Matthew’s marriage. Of the perverse and dangerous kiss on that church. Of the black promise sealed with a stolen kiss that he was now carrying out.

The third cut was for Matthew, because now he couldn’t be in denial anymore. No armor to protect him, no upbringing that could hide and make pretense of not feeling them, of not caring who Alfred kissed, of not minding sleeping with his wife, of marrying her instead of running away with Alfred. He wouldn’t be able to deny their attraction, to deny their relationship, to deny  _him_  - not after this, with the mark on such an intimate place. Matthew’s widening eyes -even while clouded with pain and indignation, and still dry but with growing panic- gave Alfred all what he needed to know.

“Are you realizing now Matthew? I never sought to kill you” the Assassin whispered wickedly, feeling oddly powerful and glad, as the blood flowed freely from the cuts and stained the skin red, the mark almost complete. “I just want you to understand that you are mine. Not hers.” touching his now bloodied knife against the sensitive skin , feeling the slight twitch and the muscles tensing in dreaded anticipation “Have you impregnated her already babe? I had told you, you’d better breed with her, have you seed on someone else before I robbed you of all desire.”

Before the Templar could trash wildly in an attempt to break free -or to get himself killed Alfred didn’t know - not that he cared, he immobilized the trashing quickly, using his strength to push the limbs to the ground, using a leg to pin a naked thigh to the ground, and using his weight as a leverage to hold the Frenchman still, and with a primal and savage smile  he did the fourth and final cut.

“This one is for us Mattie” he said admiring his bleeding work He could have done a short two-cut Assassin’s mark, but Alfred didn’t feel that generous, his pain too raw, his heart and feelings too tumultuous and intense to be just represented in two clean cuts. Their relationship was much more than just an Assassin and a Templar, it couldn’t deserve any less “for you and me” It was the mark of their love, how forbidden, heretic and daring it was like the Assassin’s mark branding a Templar on  his groin.

the silence that followed was stagnant, until Matthew seemed to regain his strength, violet eyes flashing in defiance and snarled “I’m going to destroy you” before pushing Alfred down, anger and shame fueling his strength. Taking the knife that now rested on the floor and aiming for a clean cut at his enemy's throat.  

“No, you aren’t going to do that. You are going to rest now-” he began dodging the strike easily, taking the wrist, not paying attention to the indignant  "Don’t touch me!“, and continued ”-and let me take care of the mark" at those words the Templar stopped, violet eyes widening in understanding, and Alfred felt smug.

So his Mattie was finally knowing what life with their mark would mean? If it hadn’t been for the knife reflecting the light of the lamp he wouldn’t have seen the knife moving until it was too late. As it was though, he acted on basic instinct preventing Matthew from stabbing himself on the stomach. His hold grew tighter until he Matthew dropped the knife but even then he continued in order to subdue the sudden suicidal trashing.

“Oh no, Mattie you won’t! Stop it-” he had to immobilize the other against a wall of the shed, wrist on a unmovable hold over his shaking head, a hand under the nobleman’s chin, his body pressed flush against Matthew, else Matthew would try to hurt himself. For the life of himself Alfred couldn’t fathom such a reaction, or the cause of it. Was this so dismal to Matthew that he had tried- ‘No Alfred, don’t even finish that sentence. Matthew is just confused, afraid’ “Mattie. Look at me! this is us, is it such an horrible fate?”

The Templar fought the hand on his chin, and even then, when they were face to face his eyes strayed away from him. Alfred had no doubt of the answer, and found his resolve faltering. But then he remembered their history, he remembered that room in one of the Assassin’s hideouts in Venice, of his promise on the church, and found strength to  rationalize with the borderline hysterical man. "It is not Mattie, You know it, I know it. Believe in me"

That seemed to elicit some reaction, Matthew’s face had wiped around, curly bond hair whipping his face the same way his pained voice did.“How?! You marked me! You did this to me!”

“I believed in you, even after you almost killed me”

“Those are two entirely different-”

“No they are’t. Even if I was delirious, part of me knew I could still trust you to sleep in my arms. I knew you wouldn’t kill or try to hurt me” Alfred confessed, voice earnest, foreheads touching, and for the first time, those violet eyes didn’t stray away from him. 

“It hurts now, but it will be beautiful Mattie”

“Turn around” Matthew said quietly, violet eyes dark.

Alfred snorted “I don’t think I will, give my back to-”

“Turn around Alfred.” Matthew hadn’t raised his voice, but the authority carried on those words was unquestionable. For some bizarre moment Alfred felt as if he was in front of his father and not Matthew, it made him wince. No wonder Matthew had led many Templar missions, he was shaping up to be a great leader, he would probably have his own division soon if-

If it wasn’t for his mark. Alfred paused at that detail, and nodded before giving his back to Matthew. The noble probably needed some time to himself. He had their weapons, so it wasn’t as if Matthew could attempt against his life again.

He trusted Matthew to not run away - and well, even if he tried to escape he would probably lose consciousness soon due to the undressed mark. He had never expected to hear sobs which is why, when he heard the soft and contained sound he thought of a small animal. But once the sounds kept repeating themselves there was no doubt, and Alfred couldn’t help his heart from breaking, each sob piercing it, each unseen tear chastising his soul, his feelings until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and with three long strides he took the Templar’s mar, turned he around, and hugged him.

He couldn’t say he was sorry. He didn’t regret marking Matthew, never would, in his mind and in his heart he knew it was due time drastic actions such as these happened, and he has warned Matthew that day on the church. No, his heart was breaking because he knew the true reason of those tears, it was those repressed feelings, the dam had broken, and there was no way to put it back. Not with the assassin’s mark on his skin. 

“You-” Matthew began, and to his credit, his voice didn’t sound broken, just perhaps a bit on the low, even if his tears wet Alfred’s shoulder, and his body trembled “this, it has ruined me” at the silent confession the assassin could do nothing else but Kiss the crown of Matthew’s head, inhaling the fresh scent, the tears and the blood: the scent of their love. He sighed, trying to not let his own tears fall.

“Not only you, love.” he said against his head, hold growing tighter, a hand rubbing his back in calming strokes. 'You aren’t the only one ruined by this.’ he thought resignedly 'I had to burn my bed because your scent haunted me, I could never lay on my alcove because the memories are still fresh on my mind. I cannot lay with women because my arms only want you in them. Have you know how much I cried when you denied me? How many Templar men I killed when I heard the news you were going to marry?! Such a wrong and forbidden feeling ties us both, don’t ever think you are the only one suffering Matthew.’ “It will get better.” he continued confidence on each word, and finally, Matthew gave up and hugged him back fiercely. 

He could feel their bodies touching, he could feel them answering to each inquisitive touch, even as he dressed the mark. But this was not how he had imagined taking Matthew, so he didn’t do much else but hug the Frenchman and kiss him to sleep.


	9. Amecan 1812 (NC themes)

He could do without the Blood. 

Alfred thought while inspecting his prize (no, not his prize, never his prize, Mattie was not an object, Mattie was his, much more worth than just a prize than any prize in the world.) gasping on the floor clutching at his sides desperately, naked back arching marvelously while behind them the city burned in flames.

It was glorious and alluring, but he could do without the blood. He never liked when Matthew bled, a bleeding Mattie always reminded him of the first time they met, of the first time he saw Matthew die, and of the many many more that followed due to Arthur’s neglect. Alfred frowned at the mention of that name, walking briskly towards his (his?) _his_ Matthew with the sure intent to wipe the blood away - and what was left of that disgusting clothes with him. Matthew would look so much better on all american cotton. 

Matthew winced when cold murderous hands took hold of his shoulders and with unquestionable strength pried his hands open, pulling his fingers away from his burned sides that were more scorched flesh than skin. He cried in shame and anger when those burning lips kissed the wounds he had made, and with some perverted gentleness licked his body clean of blood and dirt. He tried to not look at the nation subduing him on the eye, he didn’t want to remember how sky blue had been conquered by vicious lead. How that once warm gaze had transformed into that of a greedy monster who fueled down his heart and wanted to feast on his insides.

But the hand digging on his scalp left him with no other option.

“Don’t close your eyes Mattie” the monster on his once brother’s ski sang softly, sweetly “I hurts, but you should see that I will make it better”

“I … don’t want .. you to” he managed, his tongue still parted from where he had bitten once the parliament building exploded in flames. His act of defiance was met with a patronizing coo hurting more than any blow the other could make.

“Shhh. Mattie, you don’t have to pretend to be strong with me” Alfred reassured his (his? Perhaps he ought to find a proper name for Mattie, he was much more than a prize but this property was not to be applied for a familial bond) _his Canada_  knowing the still Colony (not for long now) was afraid of showing that. He knew Mattie tried to be strong, tried to prove himself worthy as a means to assure he wouldn’t be abandoned. But it would never work, France and England and the Europeans “they don’t see what I see in you”  he cooed, mouth tasting the delicious blood, smug at the bright and clean skin  he left behind “but I see you Mattie.” he added kissing the wounded chest, feeling the crazy beating of Matthew’s heart on his lips - rightly believing it as a proof of his brother happiness “I will never abandon you. We will be together. Forever.”

His hands found what was left of the breeches and tore them swiftly. All american cotton on Matthew, that was the only thing he should be wearing, all american cotton and white and blue and red. Nothing else. “This was just a necessity Matthew. I will take care of you, I always have” he began again, caressing the long and shapely legs, wondering how someone so young could have such tantalizing features “So you shouldn’t fear me love. Surrender yourself to my cares” he sentenced before kissing his (his? What could-)

_his wife_. Alfred smiled into the kiss, feeling his wife shake violently in excitement.

Yes that word sounded about right.  


	10. AmeCan dream hunter AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major character death.

“Matthew?” he asks, the word foreign on his lips. It has been a long time (too much) since they had seen one another and he doesn’t want to dream.

(But then again hadn’t dreams gotten them together? Hadn’t his dreams make way for him to discover Matthew?)

But his eyes seem not to deceive him, and the sensors tell him he is a living thing in the room. The pale figure in front of him turns around slowly and Alfred notices he is not touching the ground. He doesn’t want to believe it.

“Hey Al” the figure says voice soft and  _human_  and Alfred doesn’t want to look up - doesn’t want to see anything else. But the sensor on his wrist is getting warm, a clear sign that unnatural power is growing more and more and the cause is what is in front of him - Mattie. 

_“Do not trust whom you meet in dreams”_  Ivan had said the first time they worked together on a demonic case “ _we are hunters, everything unatural is our enemy, even if it was just your imaginary friend. No._ Especially _if it was your imaginary friend…”_

Matthew is floating, the mechanical wings (the once pristine and shining in blue neon now being just pure white) never touching his skin but Alfred knows those appendages are the ones that make him fly, like always his beautiful hair hides his eyes away - But Alfred knows now they do not hide violet eyes but crimson. Like demons. Like his  _own_  demon.

_“… you create them with your power and they multiply it…”_

Alfred doesn’t smile, just stands there, and Matthew stops, fidgets with the hem of his shirt in shyness the human can’t discerns if it is sincere or not and mumbles with a pained voice “Oh Al, How much I’ve missed you” 

_“…If you want to achieve your true potential as a hunter you have to kill it…”_

Alfred’s hand has always itched for his gun, his quick thinking has always saved his friends and partners (even that unstable Russian). But now it stays quiet, his fingers weight and the knowledge of having the precise bullets needed to destroy this anomaly accuses him of treason. Alfred is doubting, and luckily Matthew doesn’t seem to take advantage of his weakness.

_“… if you wait too much it will grow stronger than you and kill you…”_

But Matthew had always been an anomaly since the start. He had been the best imaginary friend he ever had. But even he doubted Matthew was his imaginary friend, he never remembers wanting him, he just remembers finding him after an epic adventure on his dreams on a tower, behind a closed door. He remembers having to go on several other dream-journeys to find the keys to wake him up. He remembers Matthews first words (“are you my new master?”) he remembers their adventures and how a few years ago he stopped dreaming. Matthew isn’t normal, not for a dream, and much else for an inner Demon. Those normally stay inside, Matthew has been out and the organization is alarmed at not having knowledge of how much. 

_“The fate is on your hands”_

Matthew hasn’t done anything they can link him to - except him; and the ultimatum has been easy: either he becomes the greatest hunter or they erase them both. 

“Don’t cry Al” Matthew’s voice is next to his ear and his eyes widen. He doesn’t know when the other moved, when Alfred’s own hand took hold of the gun, when the barrel is being pushed against Matthew’s chest -right over the overture when the key was inserted- and more importantly he doesn’t know why he is crying.

He is a hunter. He hunts demons and other unnatural beings that are disrupting the balance of earth. It is fro the greater good, and Matthew is more than the knowns anomalies. He has been categorized as an abomination and it must be eliminated. If he does it, it will make him stronger than anyone, he will help many humans. 

“What are your orders my master?” the arms around him are warm and innocent, and up close Alfred can see Matthew’s eyes - they shine like amethysts. Alfred closes his.

“It is for the greater good” Alfred thinks as he pulls the trigger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for your anguish: Matthew was truly innocent.


	11. Amecan (Demon!Al)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon!Alfred just killed his angel counterpart and now comes for Matthew, the human.  
> Yet perhaps, nothing is what it seems. A mistake that could be his undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings. mentions of character death. Creepy Matthew, the eye scream trope and violence.

Oh he had seen him, meek docile tiny little thing of a human his angel counterpart seemed to hang around constantly. It had blond soft hair and pale skin and an easy smile. Quite the benevolent and docile behaviour, no wonder his angel counterpart has followed him around. That human was bound to be a saint.  
  
How pathetic.  
  
Well perhaps not pathetic, how delightful. The little human had a scent that was maddening on its pureness. It was intoxicating, it thrilled him, made his blood sing. For the pureness was blank, crystal like water, and a blank canvas. Just like how he could become a saint he could become the acolyte of evil. His acolyte. For was he, Alfred son of Leviathan not the most deserving of gaining such a delicious soul?  
  
Fantasies of the taste of his temptation and downfall kept him reeling, made him careless on his investigations of the Human. Matthew - the name was even that of a saint, he would love nothing else but to rip him out of his destined path like the snake who tempted Eve. He couldn’t wait, he had to make him his, now - but his angel counterpart (that stupid meddlesome principality) was a constant obstacle.  
  
The stupid angel had warned him off. Ha! As if that would work - it hadn’t the first time when he obliterated a country, it wouldn’t work now. But it had forced him to be patient, to make plans, to make a few acquaintances with Matthew (who was much more delicious and pure than what he imagined, and that smile, that smile was something he wanted to rip and plaster on the wall of his infernal castle) and to finally just be over with his angel counterpart.   
  
Alfred licked his fangs, tasting the pious blood of a principality and snickering at the last dregs of the dead principality feelings. Justice. Doubt. Regret. Longing. Adoration. Love. “You made a principality doubt Matthew? So very interesting. Say you wouldn’t mid if I paid him a visit would you?” he asks while kicking the corpse of the angel, relishing on the wet thuds. Oh, he should have gotten rid of him sooner! “Of course not! If he made you doubt that would very well mean he isn’t meant for the path of holiness. Don’t worry. I’ll plan to take good care of him!” and with that he dissolved, just to appear human shaped, wingless and hornless, blue eyes shining with death and red lust as few houses from Matthew’s.   
  
Back in heaven the news of Alfred’s death fired up the alarms among the principalities. But there wasn’t much else they could do to prevent what would happen. It was too late, the demon would enter Matthew’s house and he-  
  
Alfred knocked the door, and Matthew opened it, instantly violet eyes focused on the demons, smile sweet as ever and allowed him inside. “Your cousin…” the human began, and the demon had to stop himself from laughing at the human’s naivete. Honestly he believed the lie?! “… hasn’t arrived, but make yourself comfortable” and with that he lead the demon to a living room and motioned him to seat on a plush sofa.  
  
“No thank you” Alfred shrugs, walking, coming closer to Matthew’s personal space, loving how the human’s heartbeat increased “I can wait him like this” he intones the words soft and suggesting, his body leaning over his prey, he can taste the soft attraction and arousal and it is perfect. The human in his grasp blinks softly, violet eyes innocent, before smiling.  
  
“No I insist: please sit down on the sofa” his voice is clear, and Alfred finds his body obeying the order and not him. Once he is seated, he tries to stand, but it is almost as if he is glued to the spot. Matthew is next to the chimney, eyes soft and smile still on his face. His scent is still pure and powerful, all o encompassing on the whole house and Alfred is afraid.   
  
“After all your cousin is bound to be late…” the human begins softly, but Alfred never misses how the energy in the room washes over him, nor does he miss how the human retrieves the poker from the fireplace, the end an bright shade of yellow or how he lets it crave on the floor as he walks towards him “He’s dead after all.” he giggles and Alfred can now heel the body heat, but his eyes are glued on the poker, which is now lifted “Good for you I was growing tired. Angels can be very dull don’t you think?” rhetoric question, and the demon cannot answer, he can only see the hot poker in front of him, and the runes intermixing and weaving with one another flared by the pokers heat; and he realizes with horror he had never felt before, that he has walked right into a trap.  
  
“Oh don’t look like that Alfred” Matthew admonishes lightly “Though I must admit it has been a long time since I’ve bound a demon. I hope you don’t mind” and with a swift move Matthew stabs the demon on right left eye, enjoying how the glasses melt instantly before the flaring end destroys the upper lid (and wasn’t that a shame? Eyelids were very very sensitive and beautiful!)explodes the eye and nestles on the demon’s brain burning the ownership. Alfred only screams for a few seconds for the pain is overwhelming and passes out, bitter and horrified.   
  
The human coos at the slumped figure, planting a soft kiss on the crown of his demon’s head. “Of course you won’t. You are _bound_ to be a good boy Alfred. I am looking forward to it!”


	12. Canadacest (Vamp!2pCan; bloodrinking)

“Don’t be gentle” Matthew said, pushing the vampire’s face against his naked skin, trying hard not to tremble in anticipation as the chapped cold lips brushed it.

The older man snorted, touching the naked skin with his gloved hand before sliding to his nape and grabbing a fistful of Matthew’s- his human- hair tightly, bending that delicious neck, feeling the muscles and veins pushing against the taut skin.  

“You know I wont” he complied dangerously “the only time I’m gentle is when I’m fucking you into our bed” he smiled sardonically cleaning the skin with his tongue and sinking his fangs on it.

Matthew’s blood wasn’t delicious - the taste was higher than that. There was something incredible and blinding about its flavor, deep, sensual and shining that left him blinded, that reduced him to a lowly beast surviving only on basic instincts. It was hateful, he didn’t like to lose control but he couldn’t stop it, this blood and his owner, they had trapped him - just like how he had trapped the human, if his strangled moans were any indication.

He could feel his human’s pulse beating against his fangs, he could feel the secrets of his skin and the arousing on his blood. He did not believe in love or romance, but as he sank his fangs deeper -trying to leave a true mark on Matthew’s neck- while his other gloved hand caressed his human’s inner thigh, he wondered how had he ever lived without the other. 


	13. AmeCan military!AU

“You’re despicable” Matthew spat against the mirror, his breath fogging the reflection of his nude body, his turbulent violet eyes never leaving Alfred - that erratic insubordinate whom he had started to feel a predilection for- alone, always vigilant.   

The engineer nodded a self depreciation smile plastered on his face as he approached “Yes I know Mattie” he kissed his words on the other’s skin, ghosting his hands down Matthew’s back suddenly gripping those hips -thumbs digging on the beginning swell of Matthew’s behind- and continued “everything I am is despicable to you, even the boots you just licked clean.”  he parted those thighs with his leg, making sure of letting his lover feel the leather on his skin (Matthew had a fetish with the material that bordered on the offensive) surprised at not finding a struggle and looked into Matthew’s reflected gaze - trying to eat up his soul, t find the secret why his beloved general wasn’t fighting his advances now. 

All he found was curiosity and the first blooms of empathy and the engineer felt afraid. So he spoke again, his voice a weapon to stab the dangerous silence “But it’s ok. I find everything about myself despicable as well, except this” he whispered against his lover’s ear, leaning on Matthew, letting their skin touch, watching that curious gaze widen when he felt Alfred’s warm hands spread his buttocks and his engorged cock against his entrance “this part of me that can be in you” he confessed with toxic adoration, his eyes never shying away from that violet gaze, before thrusting inside the welcoming body of his general, losing himself in the heat.


	14. AmeCan Fatal Frame AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one of the bad ends of Fatal Frame 2

“Do you remember when…”

The voice brings him back to consciousness, but even so Matthew can’t open his eyes. He is still too tired - too drained- to move, even breathing is a privilege he isn’t too sure of wanting.

For every breath meant he was alive a while longer. Ever breath meant he still belonged to this reality, the reality where-

“we promised each other we would always be together Yae”

this is the voice of his nightmares. The voice of his dreams, the voice which had once commanded his pleasure and brought forth tenderness and security. The voice of Alfred, the one he loved, the one he had recently discovered was tied to him by blood - a tie that cursed them to this town, this possession and this ritual he has foolishly thought they could escape from.

He had wanted to escape, but Alfred - something had gone wrong with him. He could feel his body above his, he could feel the hand touching his body and he recognized them as Alfred’s.

But Alfred had been long gone - had willingly parted from him and for what?

“Do not fear me.” the not-Alfred above him continued, the possession’s -some perturbed ghost called Sae, whom he had sympathized briefly until she convinced Alfred to pert from him- making Alfred’s voice quiver unnaturally ”Even if you went back with a body different from my own, I recognize your soul Yae. Open your eyes for me my dear”

Compelled by the supernatural’s power, Matthew felt his eyes forced open, looking right into not-Alfred’s face. His eyes shining a familiar blue - how it used to when he was planning something naughty and loving - and his lips twisted into a mockery of a smile.

“I was foolish to let you go once. But now I’m sure we will be together.” Not Alfred cooed sweetly and Matthew felt hopelessly repulsed. tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, why did Alfred abandon him?! He had wanted to die, of old age, with Alfred by his side not this- ” you have nothing to fear now Yae. I’m here, with you, forever”

and with that sentence, Matthew felt Not-Alfred’s lips upon his, his familiar mouth prying his stubborn lips open, his familiar tongue molesting his unwilling mouth. Matthew widened his eyes when he felt the horrible blow of Sae’s soul piercing his, binding them together as Not-Alfred’s fingers circling his neck, those calloused thumbs crushing his throat

The last thing he saw, right before everything went black and exploded in red, was Alfred’s terrified eyes. Blue shining with horror and regret.

If Matthew had been alive a few more seconds he would have heard Alfred screaming his name, on his voice before the demon rose from the rift and doomed everything.

The sacrifice meant nothing.

The demon feasted on their bodies and souls, owning and torturing them, and the love tainted by Sae’s wailing possessiveness broke with the finality of a demoniacal wedding.


	15. Snake!CanAme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To cheer Pan up!   
> it's pretty much gen, and first meetings.

Warm hands. That was the first thing the snake man recognized once he was strong enough to perceive, there were warm hands on his cold, pained and utterly weak body. There were roaming and touching him with foreign fabrics and objects and he wanted them gone! Instinct told him the warms hands meant not one of his kind (and were there  _any_  left?) which only meant  danger. Anything warm was hostile and enemy, especially if those hands were human’s - they had sorted upon their kind all kinds of  awful catastrophes with those crucibles of them. He had been a child when it happened, helpless and weak to even protect his siblings from death, just like now - though now his weakness was not the fruit of infancy but of poison. He wanted to laugh, who would have thought that he, the last son of Season’s Forests, would die due the poison of a terrible insect while feeling how a human -the kind who slaughtered his kin- defiled what was left?

It was shameful. To have lost against the creature and to be forced into unwanted touches without being strong enough to push them away. He would not cry nor wail, even if he could do both. A shameful death was befitting of him, the one who could not destroy the trespasser of his abode.  

Suddenly, something cold and sharp pierced him, and the snake man lashed wildly, a primitive and instinctual reaction that happened to be the last before darkness claimed him.

The next time the snake man regained consciousness he was surprised to be alive, capable of breathing and movement, and when he opened his eyes (a weary movement that stung more than what was worth at the moment) he found blue. Blue eyes, blue armor, blue light, everything was blue except for the golden hair and tanned skin. It took a moment before his sluggish mind realized the blue creature in front of him was a human but it had been his mistake. The human had immobilized him with firm and gentle hands before he could have any chance of attacking or going away.

“Calm down you are still weak” the voice was deep, weary but warm, effectively stopping him. Not because it had any soothing quality, but for the fact that he could understand its message. How was it possible? “That spider did a number on you. I took out all the eggs, but I don’t know if the poison is gone completely”

 

Eggs? Spider? What was the human talking about? The snake man blinked and sipped the air and promptly relaxed when all what he found was honesty without an lack of hostile intentions. The human seemed to take his complacency as a a sign for he let go immediately and sat down on the floor not perturbed on being watched and analyzed by him, instead he just procured himself a fruit out of a bag and started eating. 

It was a while before the human spoke again “Your eyes are the the same shade as your tail.” he commented nonchalantly finishing the fruit and grabbing another one - and the snake wondered how many fruits did the bag have “plus you are awake, I suppose that is a good sign. You were barely breathing when I found you” he explained between bites while looking over him, he was pleased with what he found for he continued “you were swelling as well, and that’s when I realized something was not right. Good thing that I took the knife and pierced on it right away, otherwise I wouldn’t have known about the eggs”

The snake man, who had been looking at his body - finally accepting that the human would not attack him- testing its strength and mobility with little exercises paused and looked back to the human “You” he coughed a little, feeling his tongue a bit swelled, as if he had bitten it accidentally while asleep “ssssaid ssssomething about egsss before and sssspider, what are they human?” he tried to say more than hiss, but with his clumsy tongue, his pronunciation was off and came forth like a childish gasp instead of the engaging tone his kind was blessed with. 

The human stared at him, blue eyes blinking with confusion before he leaned over, pink lips quirking into a wry smile and asked “you aren’t serious are you?” and sighed once he saw the look on the snake man’s face. How could the creature not know what a Hell Spider was? “That” he signaled the humongous corpse which limbs were scattered all round the east wing of the entrance hall and the wall “is a Hell Spider. You know an arachnid, the ones that make webs to trap insects? Never mind. That thing you fought is deadly and aggressive, and their reproduce by impregnating another one with their spawn which then goes and eat their insides” he finished the explanation disgusted, unknowingly scowling at the unpleasant memories it brought.     

The snake took the information in, and looked back at his bruised tail and upper body where some kind of heavy fabric - bandages his mind supplied- was pressed against his soft skin. If he concentrated enough he could feel the cut skin and the drying blood, and the healing. Fascinated an horrified at the prospect of what his destiny could have been he looked over at the corpse of his first intruder and noticed there was no other wounds on the creature and that it seemed to be dead right where he had lost consciousness. Willing the bubbling sense of pride away he inquired “You ssaid, it wass lucky that you took in the knife. Why?”

The human snorted in amusement going back to the bag and procuring a little bottle before approaching “Normally there is a recognizable difference between males and females. But it had been crassly destroyed when I arrived, indistinguishable. Had that bright violet tail of yours not clued me in, I wouldn’t have noticed you at all…”

The human went on talking, but by then the snake man wasn’t listening.  _‘It was dead before he arrived’_  he thought smugly  _'He didn’t kill it. I was victorious’_  It eased his previous shame, and lifted his mood. Perhaps he wasn’t able to shoo away this human intruder, but after what he had done, the human was no intruder on his home. The blond man may have been human, but if he had healed him - and that was true, for he did feel much, much better- there was no way of paying that gesture inhospitably. 

High on his thoughts, the cold blooded creature didn’t notice how the man opened the bottle and froze up when the sticky fingers touched his neck going up and down, the fingers touching his ears from time to time. “Don’t panic” he placated “I didn’t hurt you while you were on death’s door, why would I hurt you now?” he reasoned, his hands never stopping their ministrations and the creature felt his cheeks abnormally warm under them - though perhaps it was the strong herbal scent and sweat the one that made the tip of his tail squirm.           

His soft skin was aware of the warmth, of the broadness of the hand, of the callouses of those finger pads that even the generous sticky ointment couldn’t hide, and hissed when they touched the little cuts on his skin. It was the touch, he concluded, he could not pinpoint when had been the last time he had been touched in such a way - probably never. The touch was a novelty, and knowing he was stroking such a vulnerable place with such a strength and purpose just added to the thrill making his blood warm under his skin in ways that were both alien and welcome. He breathed slowly, tongue sipping the air with more frequency than normal, the smell overpowering his senses and his violet eyes (slitted and brilliant) staring into the human’s face so close to his.  

But apparently they surprises weren’t over, with a quick “don’t move” he felt one hand move behind his neck and another move to his face, leaving his neck uncomfortably cool, and pressed a thumb against his lower lip. He jerked at the sensation, but the hand on the back didn’t allow it to have much space. The man’s blue eyes bore into him, his face now a rosy shade instead of the previous tan before muttering “You have cuts on your face. I am just applying a bit. Please don’t bite” and did not wait for an answer before resuming his duty. Not that the snake man would mind, for he was stunned at the sensation and exercised control on his reactions. 

But he couldn’t stop the impulse of taking that hand in his and leaning over once it left. He felt the human stiffen, and could hear his heart bet increasing. He touched the hand with his nose before opening his eyes (when had he close them?) and looking at the human as innocently as he could.   

“Oh pleassssse, don’t take it away” he asked lightly, emotion thickening his voice while his thumb (which was nothing like the human’s) caressed the pulse point in soothing circles “I want to lick it. May I?” he added hastily,  feeling awkward all of sudden. He ought to not act on impulses anymore, especially when his healer was looking at him weirdly. There was a moment of tension before he agreed relaxing his hand touching his nose with those calloused fingertips.

The creature smiled, kissing one finger before starting lo lick it clean. It was definitively Salve. No doubt about it, but it was laced with another substance that made it creamy and delicious to his taste, and coupled with his healers flavor it became very addictive. He hummed pleased, tongue licking the palm, sensing the lines, and the scar skirting at the edge of the back, loving hos the warm and wet skin bumped his cold nose from time to time. Soon he found that his tongue was just too small for his task. He wanted more of the taste, of the creamy ointment and his healer true taste. Looking at the fingers critically he summed the length before deciding there was no harm and, without asking, sucked on finger into his mouth.

He heard the other gasps, felt his body leaning over him, and his fingers twitch before relaxing once again. “It issss fine” he drawled, kissing the palm again “trusssst me”

And trust he did, staying put as he sucked fingers and kissed knuckles. His fingers even ventured far and touched his tongue on purpose while inside his mouth, and the snake man smiled in appreciation, unaware of the sensations and reactions he elicited the man above him. 

He groaned, shivered and cursed as the tell tale signs of desire unfurled. He barely knew this creature, this total stranger whom he had saved in an act of sudden pity -he did not even know if it had a name- and yet here he was, being licked, and his body arousing to the intimate yet innocent touch, mind blossoming in strange desires, back arching over the snake, and the skin not yet wet with saliva aching. He shouldn’t have checked the creature up while unconscious, for all what he could remember now was defined muscles, strong arms, a shiny flexible tail, soft golden hair, violet eyes and the most tempting lips he had ever chanced upon - and how it would feel against his skin, how would it feel to have those kisses and tongue elsewhere, how would it feel to kiss  _him_.

He was ashamed feel his cock harden at the thought and the imagined taste. This creature -half man and half snake- was powerful enough to tear apart a class S monster, and yet he had been unfortunately blessed with an innocence and naivete only rivaled by his appearance. He doubted the other would even know what a release or pleasures of the flesh were. He was showing gratitude presumably in the way their race did, to a man who was only thinking obscenely of his actions and whose body took pleasure in them. 

It was not chivalrous, not even if he was a former knight - it was despicable to the tiniest degree. Even so, he couldn’t stop, groaning as his fingers actively sought the other’s tongue to play with it, biting his lip to stifle his moans when one finger was sucked inside that mouth, painfully grabbing a fistful of his hair with his free hand to prevent him from coming - and the fact that he was already leaking was the biggest embarrassment of his life. 

Fortunately, right before he could come, the snake stopped, kissed the back of his hand in a gesture close to veneration and pressed it against his surprisingly warm cheek. “This hand that took the venom away and healed me. Is pious and pure, just like its owner’s heart.” he began, before those violet eyes looked at him, knowingly and gratefully and the former knight felt his stomach churn with regret and self loathing “Thank you”

“It was nothing. You don’t know anything about me” he replied, freeing his hand if the hold and trying to put a distance between them. 

“I don’t need to know the you of then. I know the you of now, and he is pious and pure, like your hand” the other countered, slithering closer, taking his hand again with a firmness no man or creature should have right after fighting and surviving that monster. 

The former knight found no lie. How could it be? Nativity, it must be all just product of the naivete this creature was unfortunately blessed with - but somehow, part of him wanted to believe those words. Pious and Pure? He who had slaughtered villages and committed crimes of both flesh and soul? He who was damned to exile? It was doubtful, but if this creature believed it, maybe there was some modicum of truth on it. “My name is Alfred, only Alfred” he conceded extending his hand who was immediately grasped by the creature who was smirking.

“Well Only-Alfred, I’m the last on of the Season’s Forest” he introduced with a slight nod, but Alfred scowled.

“Is that your name?”

“That is my birth place” the snake shrugged but it did not alleviate Alfred.

“and your name?”

“I…” the snake paused, but Alfred did not miss how his fist tightened nor how his countenance changed from smugness to open hostility and, for a moment, he longed for his broken sword “there was this  _man_ ” he spat the word as if it burned him, as if he had slighted against his whole family “who named me  _Mathieu_  and nothing more”


	16. Snake Mapletea

Arthur sighed, or at least tried to - you see sighing with fangs can be a little bit difficult and not all that effective- instead what left his lips was a weird kind of hiss that instead of being fondly exasperated, was more of a stern warning. It did nothing to calm the young woman on the floor. She just tensed, hands gripping the grass hard, trying not to wince as the thorns dig deeper.

Arthur frowned at the action before slithering closer, his human body on level with her.

“Don’t do that mouse, you are just going to hurt yourself more”

She didn’t answer, still pale. Arthur knew she was not scared, but her erratic heartbeat and the smell of her blood all over his roses was putting him on edge. Surprisingly, he found that he wasn’t as mad at the destroyed flowers, as he was about her being hurt. She was growing on him, he concluded morosely. Now was not the time to lament though.

“I’m not mad” he reassured, moving his hands gently, in a sign of peace and surrender. She blinked her grip loosening a little. Arthur nodded before gently taking a leg “now we need to get this checked” he started, once again trying to be peaceful and ‘kiss the wound better’. That’s what humans did right? Instead that 'kissing’ it he swiped his bifurcated tongue along the wound on her calf. An accident, courtesy of being so low and having fangs, but not one too unwelcome.

As a half-snake Arthur appreciated his food raw, loving the taste of blood, sometimes licking his fingers clean once he finished his food… and well yes, he had left that bad habit sometime down the road. It didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it, a dark part of him relishing of her squeak.

In his defence, she had a tasty blood, but it was not as he was going to push her down the stairs or anything. “all done” he said hoisting her up “we need to go inside and get those thorns out” she nodded blushing

“Whatever were you doing in the bushes mouse?” he asks once all the thorns are out. She has been squirming all the while, looking guilty, like a mouse who had eating some cheese meant for someone else.

“I… I heard from some girls in town you had to give roses today-” she bites her lip haltingly, blush returning “a- and you are very important to me, -after my parents!- and the roses were ripe for plucking. So I thought I would- I’m sorry” she finishes hastily, never looking at him.

The snake-man blinks, never expecting such a reason. He knows about the humans tradition of giving flowers -something less concerning about importance and more about love, but he doubts she is old enough to understand the difference. However it warms his heart, and well even if his rosebush was destroyed he had a much more wonderful present.  He can still taste her blood on his mouth.

“You being here, alive, is a much better present, mouse” he smiles gently. Perhaps feeling a bit guilty when Madeline beams at him, a radiant smile on her face. 


End file.
